Kancolle One-Shots
by still-guns
Summary: One-shots I wrote on sufficient velocity. Inspired by the works of sasahara17, Breakaway25 and others. Will be updated whenever I have a new idea.
1. Grreat Rrrussian Ship-Boys!

**Disclaimer: This is a non-profit work of fiction using characters from the Kantai Collection franchise, developed by Kadokawa Games and published by . Please support the official release.  
Seriously, kancolle isn't mine I swear it be true**

* * *

In a room somewhere inside the Pentagon, the head admirals of the worlds navies were boasting about their successes. The brand new weapons, known as 'ship-girls', had been an incredible discovery and been proven highly effective against the Abyssal threat.  
"Overall, the ship-girl programs within all nations involved have been resounding successes," First Sea Lord Grantham announced with a relieved smile, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  
"Indeed," Admiral Richardson of the US Navy responded, "Before they came, we were on our knees. Now, thanks to the likes of _Enterprise, South Dakota_ and _O'Bannon_ , we've been able to take back all the territory we lost."  
"God has graced us with these _frauleins,_ " German Admiral Krause cried out triumphantly, "If only we had _twenty_ Bismarck's! We would win much quicker then."  
"Sacre bleu, Krause, calm down."

Meanwhile, Rrrrussian Grand Admiral Gorschkov was looking rather displeased at all the fawning his counterparts were enacting.  
"Look at you, blinded by prettiness of girls," he interrupted, a no-nonsense expression worn on his face, "You have your prretty, little girlies, dressed in skimpy clothing, fighting the Abyssals. But I have seen from the videos of them, that they are undisciplined, unprrredictable and even unrrreliable."

The other admirals had gone silent, and were looking at Gorschkov incredulously.  
"Says the guy without a single ship-girl in his navy," Richardson mocked. Gorschkov scoffed in response.  
"A "ship-girl" in my navy?! You have got to be govnoing me. I'd rrrrrather have a pack of mules fight the Abyssal's than a single ship-girl. Noooo, we Rrrrussian's do not call our ships as women. They are men of the great Rrrrussian Navy. They will drress like proper Rrrrussian sailors and fight like heroes!

"We will have ship-BOYS!"

The other admirals looked on in disbelief, before Admiral Natsumoto spoke up,

"Well, good luck with that."

 **Murmansk, Mighty Soviet Rrrrussia, Three Weeks Later**

"Are they rrrready yet? I have been waiting for HOURS!"  
"Patience Admiral," the un-named, nobody who will never be important enough to receive a name assistant replied, "It takes time to turn grreat Rrrussian supplies into grreat Rrrrussian ship-boys. They're both just seconds frrom finish."  
"Good. My vodka is almost frrozen. I don't even need ice to celebrrate."

The two massive machines finally clicked to zero, pinging like microwaves.

"They're rrready!" Gorschkov cried in elation, "Unleash the first of our grreat Rrrrussian ship-boys!"

The mighty doors of the devices swung open, lights blazing onto the concrete floor of the warehouse. Gorschkov had his mouth wide open in utter ecstasy at the sight of two boyish silhouettes, cut-out by the lights behind them.

But Gorschkov's wide smile didn't last long. When the lights died down, his lips slowly took a downwards curl at the sight he found before him.

Fresh out of the machines, rigging loaded with guns and torpedoes, dressed in russian sailor shirts, were two girls with short haircuts.

"Gremyashchy, reported for duty once again, for glorious Russia!"  
"Sevastopol! My guns itch for combat!"

Gorschkov stood motionless for about 2 straight seconds.

And then he screamed:

CHYOOOORRRTTTTT!


	2. That's Not My Name!

**Disclaimer: This is a non-profit work of fiction using characters from the Kantai Collection franchise, developed by Kadokawa Games and published by . Please support the official release.  
Seriously, kancolle isn't mine I swear it be true**

* * *

 **That's Not My Name! -** Another _hilarious,_ made-up on the spot mini-fic by still_guns

* * *

Three hours, ten minutes. Three hours and ten minutes of agony. Or at least, that's what Wyoming called it. She was among the first to know when a factory machine came up with her build time. For months, she had been the sole returned member of her class, reporting for duty as a ship-girl, ready to defend the United States once more.

So far, however, she was the oldest BB to return. Not even Utah had come back, but that wasn't unexpected, seeing as she had been de-commissioned by the time of Pearl harbour.  
But, nonetheless, Wyoming had been lonely. The only American ship-girl BB armed with twelve-inchers. Not even Alaska and Guam would give her the time of day.  
Owing to her age, however, she had the shortest build time of any BB the US Navy had summoned so far: Three hours and ten minutes. So her Admiral had made sure she would know if that time ever cropped up again. ' _You never know_ ', he had told all those months ago, " _With any luck, Arkansas will have the same build-time_.'

Today, it finally had. She, her Admiral, and his secretary ship, the cruiser Baltimore, all stood before the machine as the final seconds counted down.

"Nervous?" the Admiral asked Wyoming. She scoffed,  
"Wreck," she replied, hoping he couldn't see her shaking like a leaf. It would be painful on a mental level to wait all this time, only to have god damn _South Carolina_ step out of that box.  
The Admiral gave her a small smile,  
"Don't sweat, Wyo," he said reassuringly, "I'm sure whoever comes out of there will be a great ship-girl."

A klaxon sounded, signalling the machine had finally finished 'constructing' the girl within. Wyoming's heart began pumping furiously as the heavy steel door swung open, and its occupant stepped out.

She was short, but powerfully built, her short brown hair accentuated by her glistening golden eyes. Six turrets were mounted on arms attached to her back, with various other ship based objects about her person.

"Ship!" cried the Admiral, "Your hull number, if you please?"  
"BB-33 reporting. Ready to kick butt at your command, Admiral!"

"Welcome back to the US Navy!" the Admiral beamed, "As you can see, you're not the only ship we've called back to service. To my right, is the heavy cruiser _Baltimore_ , to my left is-" the Admiral didn't get a chance to finish as Wyoming literally leaped through the and knocked the newcomer down to the floor.

"It's YOU!" she screamed in elation, "You're FINALLY HERE! I MISSED YOU SO MUUUUCCCHHHHH!"

"-You're sister-ship... _Wyoming_..." The Admiral finished belatedly.

"Damn girl! You got some muscle for an AA-ship!" Wyoming stopped hugging her sister, looking at her with contempt,  
"Don't call me an AA-ship." She growled. Arkansas just laughed,  
"I'm just kidding with ya! I know you're as true a dreadnought as a dreadnought can be!" Wyoming pouted, but didn't say anything more, instead getting off Arkansas and pulling her sister-ship to her feet. The two sisters stood side by side, smiling the same cocky smile.

"Welcome back, Arkansas" Baltimore announced, genuinely happy that she was back.

Arkansas's smile immediately turned into a frown,  
"Say what?"  
Baltimore jerked in surprise, not quite expected the sudden change of mood,  
"Erm, I said 'Welcome Back'." Arkansas scoffed in response, earning a strange look from Wyoming and the Admiral.  
"Not that! What did you just call me?"

Baltimore was looking rather confused and turned to the Admiral for help. He shrugged and took over,  
"Arkansas..." he spoke warily, "What's up with you?" Arkansas glared at him, as if he had just morphed into an Abyssal destroyer,  
"You too?!" she exclaimed in disbelief, "Has NO-ONE learned to pronounce my name correctly?!" Now everyone in the factory was looking on, completely confused as to what was up with Arkansas. Even North Carolina, who was in the factory for being too addicted to cuddling cute destroyers, was looking on at the bizarre engagement down the hall.

The Admiral cleared his throat and spoke again,  
"We've been pronouncing your name correctly for years," he said, attempting to appease her. Her glare just grew fiercer,  
"You mean you haven't FIXED it?! The hell is wrong with you people?"  
"Then tell us how _you_ think it's supposed to be pronounced?!" Wyoming demanded, having finally lost her cool. Arkansas withered slightly, before standing tall once again.

"You all pronounce it 'Ar-ken-saw'. You 'claim' it has a a 'silent' 'S'. But if you pay attention, you'll see it ain't SPELT that way!  
"It's spelt Ar-KAN-sas."

The Admiral sighed heavily in response,  
"That debate was settled in 1881!" he declared in exasperation.  
"The outcome was WRONG," Arkansas all but screamed," You have Kansas practically next door, but you don't see anyone calling it Kan-saw now do you?"  
"Errrrr..." The Admiral was speechless. Arkansas began jabbering seemingly random anecdotes of related material, and it seemed that no-one could stop her.

That is, until a figure appeared behind her, eyes glowing red with rage,

"SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP!" USS Arizona screamed at the top of her lungs, before bringing a _huge_ bomb down on Arkansas's head, knocking the ranting dreadnought out like a light.  
"Jesus!" Arizona moaned, putting the Japanese 800 kilo back in her pocket, "Some people are tryna get some _sleep_!"

* * *

Arkansas woke several hours later, her head throbbing intensely.  
"Woah," she slurred, "Haven't felt a hit like that since '46."

"Ah, you're awake." Arkansas became aware of her sister-ship sitting in a chair beside the bed she was laying on.  
"Sis... what happened?"  
"Arizona gave you a 800 kay gee to the head."  
"800...?" Arkansas began, but trailed off upon seeing Wyoming no-nonsense face, "Never mind."  
"The Admiral is willing to let you off for your strange behaviour earlier."  
" _Strange?_ " Arkansas began, only to be cut off,

"You are being attached to the 5th Battleship Squadron, alongside me, New York and Texas," Wyoming explained, "But everyone on this base is now under standing orders to never refer to you as 'Ar-ken-saw'." Arkansas mulled this over for a moment, before making a frown of approval.  
"So common sense prevails, huh?" she muttered, taking a glass of water offered by Wyoming.

"Actually, sister," Wyoming interrupted, "Orders are to never call you 'Ar-kan-sas' either."  
Arkansas immediately choked on the water, spitting it out in a spray,  
" _WHAT?!_ " she yelled, completely mystified, "So what the hell are people gonna call me, BB-33?!"

Arkansas felt her boiler begin to wither as Wyoming shot her a scary looking face. It wasn't so much, 'I'm going to kill you' aggressive, but more like 'I'm going to humiliate you _while_ I kill you' aggressive.  
"No my dearest sister. The orders are to refer to you by your _favourite_ nickname!" Arkansas felt fear rising up her chest. The awful dread she was beginning to feel was pushing her _turbines_ up into her throat. She had to swallow to keep them down.

"Please," she begged, "Please no... I _beg_ you, _don't_ do it!"

"From now on," Wyoming continued, "You shall be referred to as...

"... Ark."

"NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Ark wailed at the top of her horn, her anguished cry reverberated for miles around... and also for an awkwardly long time.

By the time she had stopped, 90 seconds later, her fog horn was out of juice, and Ark fell to the floor, puffing and panting.

"Well," she wheezed, trying to sound optimistic. "At least it isn't Noah."  
Wyoming crouched down, a malicious glint in her eyes,  
"Oh I'm sorry, is that what you prefer? I'll call the Admiral riiiight-"

"GOD PLEASE NO!" Ark screamed in terror.  
"As you wish!" Wyoming giggled.

"Oh, by the way. The governor of Arkansas dug up some old law from 1881 and has banned you from entering the state that bears your name."  
"What?! Why?!"  
"Because you insist on pronouncing the state name differently."  
"Huh? What do you mean?"  
"The law states that pronouncing the state name incorrectly is illegal. Since you pronounce it differently from every other American..."

Ark groaned in despair,  
"God Dammit."

END

 **A/N: This is actually based upon my own disbelief at the pronunciation of Arkansas. I refuse to call it 'Arkansaw'. Oh, and that law BTW? It's actually _real_!**


End file.
